


Burnt Like Ash

by loonyBibliophile



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-25
Updated: 2013-06-25
Packaged: 2017-12-16 03:16:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/857128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loonyBibliophile/pseuds/loonyBibliophile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone keeps telling you you're going to destroy yourself. You shrug your shoulders and flick the ash from your lipstick stained cigarette and let a 'So what' roll smoothly from your lips. What does it matter if your lungs are as black as your heart? A pair of blue eyes stare you down sadly and maybe you feel a little bit guilty. But mostly you just feel numb.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burnt Like Ash

   Your name is Rose Lalonde, but no one would accuse you of being rosy. You're mostly thorns these days, it seems. During the game, you always assumed you'd bounce right back as soon as you got out. But apparently your seer powers have failed you because you couldn't have been more wrong. The others are inside your house, but you're out on the top floor balcony, staring down at the rainbow waterfall beneath, cigarette ash smoldering between your pale fingers. Your three best friends are celebrating. It's been a year today since you all saved the universe.

   Your brother is doing better than you all expected, probably due to the fact that Jade Harley never leaves his side, but whether that's for his good or hers is yet to be determined. Jade smiles and laughs like she always did but the dark circles under her eyes remind how much trouble she has sleeping at night. You rub out the ends of your third cigarette and light a fourth. Taking a drag through perfectly blackened lips, you grimace. You aren't all that fond of the taste, but the idea of slowly burning yourself to the death from the inside out appeals to your newly developed sense of self hatred. Everyone keeps telling you you're going to destroy yourself. You shrug your shoulders and flick the ash from your lipstick stained cigarette and let a 'So what' roll smoothly from your lips.

   What does it matter if your lungs are as black as your heart? A pair of blue eyes stare you down sadly and maybe you feel a little bit guilty. But mostly you just feel numb. You try not to think about the fact that John isn't dancing or laughing like the others but instead watches you, hawklike, through the slightly foggy glass. It's cold, as it always is in Rainbow Falls come evening, but your sweater is inside, hung on a coat hook, just like it has been for months. Your pale arms are dotted with goose bumps as you drag in the last of your cigarette. The black stains smudge onto your fingers and you stare at the grey tinted skin with a sense of vague fascination. You wonder if you could still go grimdark, even though you won the game. You flick the ashes of your cigarette into the colorful water below. The door creaks open and your shoulders tense. John looks at you harshly, more harshly than you ever thought he could.

"You're going to catch a cold." The caring, worried toned of his voice does not match the cold look in his eyes.

"You don't get sick from bad weather." you say flatly as you cup your hands, lighting another cigarette. "That's an old wive's tale."

"Fine then. Smoking like that's gonna give you lung cancer. How's that?" his voice drops an octave and he glares at you. You shrug.

"Is dying of lung cancer a just or heroic death for a war hero? Doubtful."

"We're worried about you" his voice isn't angry anymore. Just sad.

"Don't be." You take a drag. He stares at you, hard. Suddenly he vanishes, turning into wind. By the time he rematerializes, he's holding your cigarettes in his hand. You glare at him. He opens the pack. It's about half empty. He pulls one out and digs through his pockets for a pen. You raise an eyebrow at him, he goes inside. You finish your cigarette and wait, bored. Your chipped polished fingers tap at the balcony railing impatiently and your lips feel naked without a cigarette between them. John reemerges and pulls out the chairs to the table on the balcony.

"Sit down." he tells you. it's not a request. You roll your eyes, but you listen. He sits across from you and puts the pack of cigarettes on the table. Slowly, he removes each one and arranges them in rows. There is a row of text on each one, in his neat, tight, dark handwriting. "Read them." he nods.

_John's friendship_

_Jade's friendship_

_Dave's friendship_

_Your life_

_Your lungs_

_Your loving heart_

_Your future career_

_Time to write_

_Time to have fun_

_Time to heal_

_  
_You look at him, your violet eyes puzzled.

"I want you to know what you could be burning up every time you light one of these."

"What are you? A motivational speaker? Are you gonna cheer me on and tell em to 'Be above average!'?" you roll your eyes and punch your fist in the air sarcastically.

"No, Rose. I'm your friend. Actually, I was of the understanding we were more than friends, but apparently my opinion doesn't matter to you at all so I guess I was wrong about that. I guess that just makes me a person who doesn't want to watch the girl they've loved and looked up to since age ten slowly kill herself. We all hurt Rose. I don't think Jade's slept in 4 days, Dave can only sleep if he downs a bottle of cough syrup unless Jade is there. I have anxiety attacks if I'm ever in a room with more than 6 people at once. And you. You won't talk ot us. We just have to show up here to get you to say anything so we know you're alive. So if you wanna kill yourself one cigarette at a time, one drink at a time, one sleepless night at a time, well, at least now you know what you're burning up into cigarette ash. I'm going home. Good bye, Rose." He stood and walked inside, hands balled into fists, and stepped on the transportalizer, heading back to Washington. You don't move. Jade and Dave look from him to you, puzzled, but they know not to bother you when you look like you do. Jade waves and blows a kiss and Dave offers you a nod before they step onto the transportalizer together.

You pick up the 'Time to heal' cigarette and start to light it, but John has found your one weakness. Symbolism. Your writer's soul is too uneasy to burn those words away. Instead you put them neatly back in the carton, and tap the carton on the table a few times, idly. You stand and walk to the transportalizer and key in John's coordinates.

He starts when you appear in his living room. He doesn't speak, simply looks at you questioningly as you walk over to his sofa and sit down heavily. He sighs and sits next to you. You spend a minute just looking at him. You can still barely believe how much taller and broader he is than when he was 13 even though it's been 6 years.  You look up at him, in the eyes, and you know your eyes look tired and are ringed with dark circles to rival Jade's even though it seems like all you do is sleep and smoke and sometimes drink. You speak and your voice creaks like an old door. 

"I'm sorry." you tap the carton between your fingers. "You're right. We all need to get through this together. I can't keep shutting all of you out the way I do. Especially you." You sigh, and press the carton into his hands "I want you to hold onto this. On one condition." he looks at you, confused. "Is your year old invitation to stay here still good?" you look up at him sheepishly, and he smiles, taking the carton and setting it on the table.

"Of course it is. My door is always open for you, Rose. You just have to walk through it."

"Egbert. That was unnecessarily cheesey. Maybe you really are a motivational speaker." but unlike last time there is no venom in your voice and a smile places at your lips. He shakes his head and wraps his long arms around you, pulling you into a hug. Leaning into his chest, you hum contentedly. He kisses the top of your head softly. 

You're not okay. But you'll get there.   


End file.
